Meeting the Master Ch. 02

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What's going on inside the mansion? Steve had to find out.
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 04/16/2014
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I rose extra early Friday morning hoping to get ready in good time, but Ruth had already seized the bathroom and seemingly set up a permanent camp in there. After waiting in vain for the better part of an hour I succumbed to inevitability and settled for doing my morning routine in the small crummy guest-bathroom downstairs. You know, the one where the water goes ice cold every time somebody turns on the hot faucet in the upstairs master bathroom. But on the positive side, a cold shower can be quite refreshing in the morning.

Seriously though. What the hell is the deal with girls and bathrooms anyway? How long can one spend on taking a shit and a shower? I could shower, masturbate, bathe the dog AND wash my car and STILL be done in less than half the time of the average female doing her daily maintenance.

But when Ruth finally emerged, I almost chocked on my coffee. However long she had spent in there, it was totally worth it.

"Holy guacamole Ruthie! I don't quite know what to say. You look..."

"Like a slut? Like a whore? Like a cheating bitch?" she probed suspiciously.

"If you put it that way, I would say you are all of those plus a few more I could mention. But the words I actually had in mind was amazing, fantastic and awesome."

She lit up with a big smile and did a pirouette.

"Like what you see honey?"

"Better believe it!"

And I wasn't exaggerating.

My wife was decked out in some sort of buckled black leather corset and matching black silk stockings held in place by a garter belt. Her entire cock-provoking outfit was covered by the most transparent silken negligee I had ever seen anybody almost wearing, and the entire outfit had effectively turned Ruth from a stylish housewife into a fetish lover's wet dream come true.

As if that wasn't enough to put the Viagra manufacturers out of business, she wore a set of panties that looked as if they were made from chains held together in the front by a wrestling championship belt. Her long blonde hair pulled tightly back in a utilitarian ponytail was the final touch and clearly signalled that this girl meant business.

And cleavage!

Oh yes there was serious cleavage too. Thanks to the lift of the corset my wife suddenly sported a lot more boobage than I was used to seeing on her. Definitely not a bad look for her. She really ought to slut-up more often.

And I could have had THIS for twenty friggin years? Oh Master -- we were SO gonna have words!

"Will you help me with this please?" Ruth asked rhetorically and handed me an honest to god plush-lined dog collar. I snapped it in place, fighting a sudden impulse to bark.

"So what's the deal with the armoured panties anyway?"

"Oh, it's a chastity belt."

"A chawhatsyasay?"

"A chastity belt, Steve. Master has a firm rule that he wants his girls to arrive fresh when called upon so I snap this on after I shave and wash myself. Only he has the key that will unlock it. That way he knows for sure that I am fresh for him."

I didn't know what to say, so rather than breaking something expensive in a fit of rage I walked downstairs to calm myself with another cup of mocha. The sheer audacity of that prick was mind numbing!

Eventually Ruth descended too, now wearing her red coat in order to avoid getting us both arrested for indecent exposure on the trip. She greeted me with a loving peck on the cheek in passing. I returned the gesture by grabbing her ponytail and using it as a handle to hold her in place while bending her over the table.

"AUW! What are you doing Steve? Stop that. You're messing me up!"

"Sue me," I growled and snapped off the chastity belt with a pair of wire-cutters. The blasted thing rattled to the floor in a tangled mesh of shiny metal chains.

"STEVE! NO! Please! Master doesn't allow sex before attending him."

"Tough," I replied and shoved my cock inside her without further ado.

I reached around to her pubic area and was astounded to feel her complete hairlessness. A strange sensation, being used to Ruth at least sporting a landing strip. But my probing finger also revealed that she was wet as a rainstorm and more than ready to be fucked full force. Probably after fantasising about her ass-Master while getting ready. Well, if I couldn't get the dude completely eliminated from my life and my marriage, he might as well get used to enjoy my leftovers.

So with a solid grip in that handy ponytail of hers I started banging Ruth like a drum. At first she kept flailing her arms and yapping away about "Master this" and "Master that," but soon the oscillating hardness between her legs cauterised her mind of anything not relevant to her impending release. She clung to the table moaning with delight as the erotic tension between us grew with each thrust, and when I felt myself getting close, I wetted my thumb and squeezed it inside her ass. This pushed her over the edge and her very vocal climax pulled me along as well. With a triumphant roar I came deep inside her and held the position until my ejaculation was completely done. A little cream for the Masters coffee courtesy of his dear friend Steve.

Ruth pushed me away and desperately wiped her crotch with a dishtowel.

"Oh no. I am sticky and messy now. I need to go back up and rinse off."

"The hell you do! Go slip on a normal pair of panties and get your ass out in the car. We are late and we are leaving now."

"Master will not be pleased."

"My heart bleeds."

**********

It was a solid two-hour drive with a sulking and leaky wife at my side before we finally pulled up in front of the Masters mansion.

And yes, "mansion" was the only word to adequately describe it. The place was huge. A massive multi-storey elizabethan style building surrounded by a well-maintained park and a small beech forest. It was situated a fair distance from the main road, at the end of a long winding driveway that fanned out into a spacious gravel-covered yard and parking area in front of the main entrance. The centrepiece of the yard was a marble fountain featuring several life-size statues of nude women making out.

Yeah, I was pretty sure we had the correct address.

I brought the car to a stop at the foot of a stairway so wide you could have driven a truck up it. As soon as we came to a halt a goddamned uniformed valet showed up and opened the door for me. I felt like a VIP at the Ritz.

"Your pimp's got class Ruthie," I remarked. "Gotta give him that.

"Please Steve. Could you at least stop disrespecting Master in public?"

"Whatever. Fuck you both."

We ascended the stairs and were lead through a set of heavy wooden doors at least eight feet tall with brass fittings and entered the eighteenth century.

Yeah, seriously. The guy was evidently an avid fan of medieval European castles or at least shared interior decorator with the duke of Wellington or something like that. The lobby was large and spacious with a polished tile floor in an intricate pattern that I guessed was a stylised coat of arms. The walls were bare granite stone but lined with richly embroidered tapestries and paintings, mostly featuring motives of sexual acts or naked women in highly suggestive posings. Towards the rear of the room a wide carpeted staircase with polished brass handrails lead up to a first floor landing and the lighting was supplied by four massive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling that must have been at least twenty feet above us.

A dozen people -- mostly girls in outfits similar to Ruth's -- were lounging in chesterfield style couches and seating arrangements. A few of them looked up curiously when we entered but otherwise nobody seemed to make a big deal of the fact that newcomers had entered the premises. Guess they were used to a certain level of traffic in this place.

Compared to the picturesque scenery, the man that came walking down the stairs to meet us looked almost benign. His smile was broad when he came over to greet us with a firm handshake for me and a hug for Ruth.

"Welcome to both of you. I hope you had a nice trip down here. As always you are a vision to behold Ruth."

"As it pleases you Master," she mumbled with her head bent demurely down.

"And it is so great to finally meet you Steve. I have heard a lot about you of course, but nothing beats meeting people face to face."

I took a second to gauge the man shaking my hand. Tall, sixty or maybe sixty-five, with a full head of grizzled dark hair and a well-groomed beard. Obviously a man who took care of himself, as was evident from the slim waist and the broad shoulders. His strongest features though were his eyes. Ice-blue with a piercing gaze that seemed to draw you in and read you like a book. I quickly revised my first impression; this man was a lot more dangerous than he initially appeared.

"That makes one of us Mr..?"

"M... just call me M."

"I see. M as in Master?"

"No, I don't believe you would be comfortable with that Steve. Let us just say it's M as the character in James Bond, shall we?"

I had to smile at that one and he laughed with a deep resonant rumble. I don't know what I had expected, but this guy wasn't it. If the situation had been different I might even have liked him. As things were though, I could not allow myself to let my guards down even for one second in this mans presence.

"As you wish M, though you should know that we wont be imposing on your hospitality for long. We are just here to inform you in person that Ruth will cease to be a member of your little stable of prostitutes. In the future we are going to work on rebuilding our marriage and that includes cutting you and your cult out of her life for good. I am sure you understand."

M let go of my hand and his expression turned from radiantly jovial to somber.

"You will need to discuss that with your wife at a later time Steve. But for this weekend she has certain obligations to fulfil..."

"Customers," I injected.

"If you prefer to put it that way, yes. Ruth has a circle of gentlemen who have been fans of hers for decades and are counting on her services on a regular basis. Some of them are booked for this weekend, and they are not the type of men you stand up."

Instinctively I took a more aggressive stance.

"Are you saying that she will be raped if she refuses to spread her legs for those Johns voluntarily?"

M actually seemed a little angry now. Ask me if I gave a shit.

"Know this Steve. I am NOT forcing, nor have I EVER forced, Ruth to do anything against her will. She is living life the way she wants to live it and my sole contribution has been helping her realise her full potential and offering guidance and direction when she needed it. So you will have to take it up with HER -- not me. And at a later date please. Because for now she has promises to keep."

"That's your problem M. I see plenty of other sluts hanging around in this place. Pimp one of them out to your Johns instead, if you like. My wife and I are done here."

I thought I heard a gasp from Ruth at the insolence, but I ignored it. This was no longer just about her. There was a pissing contest going on between M and me and the air was running thick with testosterone. What can I say? It's a guy thing.

"I am afraid I must insist that you remain our guests for the weekend as planned Steve. I regret to being forced to press the issue, but you seem unable to look at this in a rational manner at the moment. I apologise in advance for what is about to happen."

He waved a hand and I turned my head to see two muscular guys moving in front of the large door leading back outside to the yard and my car. Well, he was pressing the issue all right. I can't say I was entirely surprised though. A pimp running an operation on this scale is bound to have goons nearby at all time. That we hadn't spotted them upon our arrival was a testament to their quality and professionalism. I would guess ex military rather than street thugs.

But I came prepared.

"Are you sure you want to do this the hard way M?" I asked as I swiftly grabbed a firm hold of his shirt and pushed the muzzle of my new Glock 17 hard against his stomach.

This was evidently NOT the reaction he had expected and for a moment he looked completely taken aback. He quickly regained his composure though and I could almost tell how his brain was analysing the new situation. I got the distinct impression that he was mostly annoyed with himself for underestimating me rather than afraid of my gun.

He looked me straight into the eyes with that intense gaze of his.

"Have you ever shot a person before Steve? Taken somebody's life by force and gone on living with the knowledge that somewhere somebody is rotting in a cold grave because of you. That somewhere somebody is missing a father, a husband, a child or a dear friend because of you. Are you sure you are capable of killing another human being?"

I smiled back in what I hoped was a self-assured manner.

"To be honest, no I haven't M. This type of situation is very new to me. In fact, I have never even fired a weapon before in my life. But the guy at the gun store was very helpful. He loaded this gun for me and told me that, all I have to do is pull the trigger and a bullet will come out and destroy whatever I point at. Didn't sound complicated at all."

"So you are serious?"

"Believe it."

"Guess we have a problem then."

"Guess so. Because we ARE leaving now,- with or without your permission."

M moved in closer and lowered his voice.

"Know that if you pull that trigger you will follow me in death Steve. My people will see to that, and some of them might even direct their rage at Ruth too. Regardless of what you choose to do, you are never leaving this house alive against my will. I implore you to think it over."

"We are leaving M. We can go around you or we can go through you. Your choice."

It was then I looked into his eyes and saw the terrible truth in them. We were done. M was not going to back down and neither was I. Oh crud! Guess this was the end. I mumbled a silent prayer in the vain hope that God wouldn't hold too many of my sins against me.

My finger tensed on the trigger.

Just in that moment I felt a light touch of a hand on my shoulder. It was Ruth. She knew.

"Please Steve..." she whispered in a trembling voice.

With a conscious effort I relaxed my finger, but kept the gun where it was.

"Ok, lets talk M. What do you suggest we do in order to avoid this getting messy?"

He relaxed and the relief was evident in his pose. He knew as well.

"Here is what we are going to do Steve. You stay as my guests for the weekend as planned, and in return I give you my word that you will have free access to everything in the buildings and on the grounds. You can keep your gun too, if that makes you feel better. In fact, you are free to come and go as you please with the exception that the gate will remain closed at all time so you can't use your car."

"And we are fifty miles outside bumfuck Arizona with no cell coverage and less chance of hitching a ride than a guy in central Sahara with a camel allergy," I sighed.

M smiled and winked.

"You are quite perceptive Steve. Do we have an understanding as gentlemen?"

I couldn't help it. I honestly liked the guy. He definitely wasn't stupid and contrary to my expectations didn't come across as an arrogant thug either. His demeanour was somehow perfectly in tune with our lordly surroundings, and I could almost make myself feel like I was truly facing a nobleman of medieval Europe.

"We have an understanding M."

I let go of his shirt and returned my gun to the Kydex holster in my coat. The gorillas at the door immediately advanced on us, but a discreet wave from M was all it took to make them back down. They kept scowling at me, probably not very happy with the fact that I had gotten to keep my gun. In their eyes M was running an unnecessary risk.

As compensation Ruth's smile was as bright as ever and it made her look even prettier. The fruit knife she was discretely palming in her left hand didn't escape me though. Since there was no fruit anywhere in our vicinity, I could only imagine one possible use for it. Yes, it was painfully clear to me that I had no loyal allies in this place. Not even my loving wife.

M clapped his hands twice and a dream on two legs rose obediently from one of the couches and came walking towards us. She was Japanese, or at least of oriental origin, and moved with an elfin grace that told tales of long hours spent in the gym. Her jet black hair flowed behind her like a cascade of dark silk reaching all the way down to her waist and the effect was jaw dropping. Ruth was a great-looking woman by any standard, but that girl was out of this world. And out of my league. And out of my age group. My best guess was twenty, but it's always hard to tell with oriental girls.

Her only garments were the corset and stockings with garter belt, like the outfit worn by Ruth and which seemed to be the standard attire for all M's girls. But this particular girl was of a type that didn't need racy clothing to be stunning. She would look like a million bucks even rolled in shit and covered with flies. She would ooze sex whether in the process of fucking your brains out or washing your laundry.

I was beginning to wonder where the hell this was going when M knocked my socks off.

"Motoko, this is Steve. He will be your master for the weekend."

The black haired exotic dream smiled and kneeled before me.

"Master Steve. I am yours to command. I give myself freely to you, body and soul. Please accept my vow of loyalty, obedience and servitude."

Whatever I had expected, this wasn't it. I was literally speechless.

M's ice-blue eyes glinted with amusement and he looked as if he was making an effort to keep from cracking up.

"That is a formal pledge of servitude. You are supposed to accept her offer, Steve."

"Eh, I... yeah... sure. I accept," I mumbled uncomfortably.

Instead of getting up Motoko reached for my pants. I actually recoiled in surprise and finally M was unable to curb his amusement any longer. He broke out in laughter but managed to compose himself enough to tell the girl to let me off the hook for the time being.

"I think you can postpone the formal conclusion of the ceremony till you are alone with master Steve, Motoko. He isn't quite used to our ways yet."

With the agility of a cat Motoko slid back to her feet.

"As you command Master."

"Please wait for your new master by the stairs."

"Yes Master," she replied and bowed to both of us before heading for the stairs to the first floor.

The way her hips moved when she walked away was positively hypnotic, and I found myself just standing there chewing my tongue until M pulled me back to the real world.

"Listen Steve. I really like you man, and it is my sincere hope that you will use this weekend to familiarise yourself with our lifestyle. The lifestyle your own wife has chosen to dedicate her self to and live by. And please remember that contrary to how it might appear, nobody is here against their own free will."

"Except for me," I remarked dryly.

"I was hoping the company of Motoko would sweeten the deal a little."

Ok I admit it. I couldn't hold back a big shit-eating grin. Hey, I'm married -- not dead, ok? Besides Ruth and this guy friggin owed me. Big time. Even a night with a supermodel half my age didn't come close to adequately compensating me for twenty years of betrayal, but it was a start.

"However, a word of caution Steve. You will NOT under any circumstance be allowed to disrupt the function of this house. Whether you agree with our ways or not must I insist that you respect them while you are a guest under this roof. Motoko will be your guide and see to your every need, but you should also know that she will keep an eye on you and has been instructed to kill you if you step out of line."